The Short Story Speedwriting Challenge: Mission Author Redirection
by Papa Bear Awards
Summary: Nursing the latest round of wounds inflicted upon them by the ruthless authors, the heroes are desperate to redirect the writers' muses towards happier and less painful stories. So our heroes issue a "safe" challenge in hopes that they will receive a well deserved break and women - lots and lots of women.
1. Chapter 1

The scene in Barracks Two was not one for the faint of stomach. In a rare moment of blessed peace, the heroes lounged on their bunks trying to forget their recent horrors and heal their many wounds.

Relatively unscratched, Kinch sat at the table as he attempted to write a letter home. But the groaning from several bunks made it hard to concentrate. However, he didn't blame his friends as they'd been shot, kidnapped, blown up, tortured, and had broken various bones too many times in the past year.

And that wasn't even counting the crackfics.

It was those authors. They seemed to derive some sick sort of pleasure from inflicting pain on characters that they claimed to be their favorite. Kinch had his doubts. But regardless of the reasons, he could barely even look at Newkirk anymore due to the bruises and scars that covered most of his body. He seemed to be receiving more than his fair share of the authors' attentions at the moment.

Colonel Hogan didn't look much better as he often wandered around the camp with a confused look on his face. Ever since a recent time traveling adventure, the officer had trouble remembering what year it was or what events had happened in what timeline.

Even the men in the back row were not immune from the latest round of stories. They suffered from no physical ailment but the long periods of enforced silence and inactivity sent many into a deep depression.

What they needed was a break. But how were they to get a vacation in a POW camp?

Walking into the room, his weary CO grabbed a cup of coffee and joined Kinch at the table. Rubbing his head in an attempt to ease his latest violin-induced headache, Hogan said, "We can't keep going on like this."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "But we took them to court - twice. And we lost - twice. What else can we do?'

Carter considered the problem. "Trying to stop them from writing doesn't work, so why don't we try encouraging them to write."

Newkirk was incredulous. "Are you out of your bloody mind? More stories means more of ..." He gestured around the room. "...this."

"No, I mean, we encourage them to write the stores we want them to write."

"Stories where we meet girls," LeBeau said, a hint of excitement entering his voice.

Olsen smiled. "Stories where we work with women from the Underground."

"Stories where we rescue beautiful birds," Newkirk added.

"Now that is an idea I could get behind," Hogan said. "But knowing these authors we'll end up with Mary Sues or worse - Marya."

"What's wrong with Marya?"

Newkirk rolled his eyes at the lovesick Frenchman and said, "If asking for a little female companionship is too dangerous, what's safe?"

"Probably nothing," Kinch replied.

Hogan looked thoughtful. "What about that yearly challenge they do?"

"The Short Story Speedwriting Challenge?" Baker asked. "That's the one where they have to use a line from a predetermined list in a story."

Carter looked thoughtful. "Last year's entries were pretty tame. Lots of gen and humor."

"Except for the one where I died," Hogan said.

"Only one!" Carter was trying very hard to keep things positive. "And if we pick the lines they have to choose from this year then we can guarantee that stories they write will be happy."

LeBeau looked skeptical. "What makes you think the authors will participate?"

Hogan sipped his coffee. "These authors have egos. If we challenge them to write the type of stories that we'd prefer they won't be able to resist. They'll have to prove that they are capable of meeting our challenge."

"Sounds like a plan," Kinch said.

Carter smiled as he saw his plan coming together. "It'll be a piece of pie."

"Cake," replied everyone.

Hogan's eyes lit up. "That's it, Carter. We'll use idioms. Just not that one; it's too easy. We need sayings that can keep them so busy that they'll learn to let sleeping dogs lie."

"Good one, sir," Kinch said as he began to write. His pencil moved fast as the suggestions came in.

"Bob's your uncle."

"'Til the cows come home."

"Fold like a cheap camera."

"Couper la poire en deux."

Baker looked questioningly at the Frenchman. "What?"

"It means to cut a pear in two."

Newkirk shook his head. "The translation makes just as much sense as the French. You're losing the plot."

"Oh, and that one makes _perfect_ sense."

"Of course it does; it's British."

LeBeau looked like he was about to explode in a tirade of French and English so Hogan stepped in. "We'll use both. If the authors have to spend time researching what some of these sayings mean then they'll have less time to think of new injuries to inflict upon us. Anyone else?"

"Raining cats and dogs," Carter suggested.

There was hesitation on that one. "Do we really want to get soaking wet?" Baker asked.

Kinch shrugged. "It's better than hypothermia or frostbite."

"Anything that gives us stories not set in winter," Hogan said.

Olsen suggested, "Don't shoot the messenger."

Newkirk shuddered. "No shooting."

"That's the point," Olsen countered, "that idiom is all about not shooting. Something these authors need to learn."

Tired of being ignored, the boys in the back row huddled together and then gave their suggestion. "Between the devil and the deep blue sea," Addison said.

LeBeau frowned. "That could go dark."

"Really dark," Baker agreed.

Hogan tapped his fingers against the table. "It could," he admitted. "But we are at war and in war we have to make difficult decisions. I think that is a good thing for the authors to remember."

Kinch thought Hogan had a good point but, before he could agree, the barracks' door opened and Schultz stepped into the room. "What is going on here?"

"We're discussing idioms," Hogan stated.

Schultz looked confused. "Why?"

Newkirk nudged the guard with his elbow. "We need a break from those bloody authors."

"Yeah, so we're going to challenge them to write nice stories using idioms we've chosen," Carter explained. "Do you know any good ones?"

Schultz smiled. "Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch." The German speakers all laughed while the guard translated for the English only speakers in the room. "I think I was kissed by a moose."

"I wasn't aware that there were moose in Germany," Olsen said.

"Very few. That's why it's used as an expression of surprise."

Intrigued, LeBeau pressed for more. "Give us another."

Schultz thought for moment before replying, "Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her. The fish starts stinking from the head."

Unable to resist, Hogan quipped, "I wouldn't say that one too loudly. Someone might think you are talking about the Fuehrer."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want you shot for telling the truth," Carter added.

Schultz's face fell and he quickly started backing out of the room. "I hear nothing. I know nothing. I said _nothing_!"

Once Schultz slammed the door, Kinch counted up his list. "That gives us eleven idioms. Do you really think this idea will work?"

"If it does we'll be cooking with gas," Baker said with a grin.

Kinch grinned back. "And if it doesn't it will add insult to injury."

"No!"

"Not that one."

"Pick another."

"It's an idiom," Kinch explained. "It's not supposed to be taken literally. That's the whole point."

"I don't care," LeBeau said. "I don't want the authors to see the word injury. It'll give them ideas."

Newkirk crossed his arms. "You don't understand. The authors just ignore you. If you were lying in a bunk with bullet holes in your body, you'd feel differently."

Ending the fight, Hogan ordered, "We won't use it. Twelve should be plenty. Kinch, send these lines off to London. The faster this challenge is issued, the sooner we'll get a break."

"Yes, sir." Kinch rose and descended into the tunnels. But before turning on the radio, he added his suggestion back to the list. It was just a phrase. It wouldn't do any harm - at least not to him. Sometimes it was nice to be the man everyone ignored.

* * *

Now that the heroes have thrown down the gauntlet, here are the rules:

1\. Write as many short stories as you can from now until Saturday June 4th.

2\. All stories must be a minimum of 1,000 words and a maximum of 5,000 words.

3\. All stories must include at least one idiom from the challenge list somewhere in the story.

4\. All stories should be posted online on June 4th. You can put your story up as long as it is June 4th somewhere in the world (starting with New Zealand and ending at midnight in Hawaii).

5\. Your stories can be any genre you wish (including slash and crossovers). However, if you post a M rated story or a crossover please advertise your story in the challenge thread in Forum XIIIc so it doesn't get overlooked.

6\. You may change the verb tense of your idiom if necessary to make it work grammatically in a sentence.

7\. For the German and French idioms, you can use the original language or the English translation or both.

8\. You are not required to follow the heroes' wishes with this challenge. Feel free to cause as much injury and angst as you desire. Or be as funny and fluffy as you want. We just ask that your story has a discernable plot (so no crackfics).

This year the following members of our fandom have pledged to donate money to charity for each story written: Sgt. Moffitt (US Holocaust Museum), snooky-9093(Honor Flight Philadelphia), Abracadebra (Honor Flight), Book 'em Again (Pets for Vets), 96 Hubbles (Fort McMurry Relief), Sophia Villo (Red Cross), konarciq (TBD), FloatingPizza (TBD) and dust on the wind (Refugee Council of Australia). So each story you write raises money for charity!

Finally, if you didn't catch them all in the story, here is your Idiom Challenge List:

Let sleeping dogs lie

Bob's your uncle

Til the cows come home

Fold like a cheap camera

To cut the pear in two / Couper la poire en deux

Losing the plot

Raining cats and dogs

Don't shoot the messenger

Between the devil and the deep blue sea

I think I was kissed by a moose / Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch

The fish starts stinking at the head / Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her

Cooking with gas

Add insult to injury

If you have any questions about the challenge or are having trouble figuring out the meaning of the some of these idioms, check out the challenge thread in Forum XIIIc.

Thanks to Sophia Villo for her help in putting this challenge together.

Happy Writing All!

Book 'em Again


	2. Chapter 2

The day had come and the residents of Barracks Two were understandably on edge. They had planned this, asked for this, but the wait was beginning to be more than they could handle. Any minute now, the stories would be posted and who knew what would happen next?

They were at the mercy of those authors.

"I'm going to die." LeBeau suddenly moaned as he rolled around his bunk.

"What happened?" Carter asked as he rushed towards his friend.

"Give the man some room," Colonel Hogan ordered. "Where does it hurt?"

"It's the same as before. When I ..." LeBeau faltered, not wanting to recount his own attempts at being an author.

Newkirk snorted in derision. "It's your fault you offed yourself."

"Well, I won't have done it if you hadn't written your story first!"

"Me! You're blaming me? Carter was the one who suggested the challenge!"

Holding up his hands as every man in the barracks turned to look at him, Carter said, "I thought it would be nice. I mean for a chance." As the glares only intensified, he changed tactics. "Colonel Hogan okayed the idea."

Hogan crossed his arms as his men turned their attention to him. "I approved a challenge to encourage the authors to write happier stories. If any injuries occur, it will be because a certain someone decided to disobey a direct order." He didn't even try to hide the disappointment in his voice as he glared at his XO.

Kinch met his gaze. "It was a good idiom. Besides, we don't even know what the authors wrote yet."

A retort was cut short as loud and prolonged barking filled the camp. Sticking his head out the window, Hogan searched for the cause of the impromptu canine concert.

"The dogs are warning us," LeBeau said.

Newkirk frowned. "I don't see anything

Hogan shrugged. "Probably a squirrel."

LeBeau wiped his head around, his eyes full of fury. "Are you suggesting our dogs don't know what they're doing?"

"Don't insult the dogs, sir," Carter said. "They're smarter than people most of the time."

"You think someone would have learned his lesson," Newkirk agreed.

Hogan sighed; make a mistake once and the men never let you live it down. Luckily, at least one person was paying attention to the problem at hand.

"Rabbits," Baker called out as he gestured toward the fence. Surely enough a large group of rabbits were making their way under the barbed wire and hopping into camp.

"Bunnies!" Carter gasped, his eyes growing wide. "Lots of bunnies."

A sense of dread began to settle in Hogan's stomach. He had a bad feeling about this. He couldn't shake the feeling that he's seen these rabbits before.

"There's twenty-six rabbits, sir," Kinch said. "And they're headed this way."

The feeling of dread had shifted into fear as the officer realized that the fluffy balls of fur weren't normal rabbits at all. They were _fabula cuniculusi. "Plot Bunnies."_

"What do we do, sir?" Baker asked.

Hogan searched his mind for an answer but he was coming up blank.

Olsen pointed. "They're got something in their mouths." The American was right. Each and every single bunny was carrying paper in their months. Which was perhaps the strangest sight of all - rabbits not chewing the objects in their mouths!

The door to the barracks burst open as the furry creatures quickly filled the room. But before anyone could come a plan to deal with problem, one bunny hopped up onto the table and set the papers it was carrying down.

Hogan leaned over and read at the top of the paper, _Well Blow Me Down_. It was a story. The first of many. The authors had answered their challenge!

It took only a few minutes for the rest of the bunnies to deliver their loads and then the herd turned and hopped back the way they came. Well, that was one mystery solved. Plot bunnies once successfully written into a story went peacefully on their way.

As soon as the last fuzzy tail went through the door, the POWs descended on the stories in a flash. For the one thing the men would never admit aloud was that they all enjoyed reading these stories. It was nice to see all the hard work they did acknowledged.

"Hi-Yo-Silver!" Baker whooped as he lifted some papers into air. "I have a story!"

"About the Lone Ranger?" Carter asked, excitedly. "I love that show!"

Before the two friends could burst out into song, Newkirk hollered, "Pipe down, will ya! Some of us are trying to read."

Carter looked apologetic as he returned to his reading. Meanwhile, Hogan grabbed the first story delivered and chuckled as he read about how he tricked Klink into judging a kissing contest! He wished he could have seen it!

The time passed quickly, with laughter occasionally breaking out. It helped that the large number of stories delivered meant no one had to wait for someone else to finish. However, no peace could last forever - not with Newkirk and LeBeau in the same room.

LeBeau poked his friend. "You ever going to finish that? I've read three stories before you've finished one!"

"I'm not done yet."

LeBeau tried to sneak a peek at the words. "How?"

Newkirk moved the pages away. "This story has depth. One has to read it carefully to appreciate its nuance."

"You wouldn't know nuance if you were hit over the head with it!"

"It probably has girls in it," Kinch said.

Newkirk couldn't help it he grinned. "Just one. A lovely bird with curves ..."

"Well, let us see it then," Olsen argued.

Foster added from the back row, "You can't keep all the juicy stories to yourself."

"I know." Baker grinned. "We'll hit him with a cane. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

"I'd never hit me mates with a cane."

"Not yet." The radiomen waved the story he was reading around. "According this you are an old man reduced to hitting cops with canes and stealing tins of corned beef."

Newkirk huffed. "You can't believe everything these authors write. That author has me acting out of character, she does. I'd never flitch corned beef without some mustard."

Foster, who had just read the story Baker was referring to, was quickly overcome with laughter.

"Get some water!" Addison cried.

"Now that an idea," Kinch said as Foster was calmed down with a drink. "With some _water_ Carter will figure out what the story is about in no time."

Hogan had no idea what his XO was talking about, but from the guilty look on Carter's face it looked like these stories were going to bring embarrassing secrets to light. Figuring he'd get to the bottom of that in no time, the officer turned his attention back to the English corporal. "Shame, you don't want to share. There lots of women in the story I just finished. But if you don't want it, I'll let LeBeau read about a stranded busload of women in need."

LeBeau's hand reached out. But Newkirk jumped now and grabbed it first, handing over his story to his CO. "A story with that many birds needs to be read by an experienced sort."

The Frenchmen shot his friend a dirty look but, for once, held his tongue. He knew that he would get a chance to read the story in time.

Reading the new story in his hand, Hogan realized very quickly why Newkirk was in love with this tale. He almost wished he would have a chance to met her. The officer was sure he could get the woman to look beyond the accent and fall for his silver tongue. Those daydreams, unfortunately, were shattered by yelp from across the room.

Newkirk shook his story in the air. "You tricked me! These birds are a bunch of..."

"Spoiler alert!" Carter yelled.

"Yeah," Kinch added. "Don't ruin the surprise for the rest of us."

Grabbing another story off the pile, Hogan noticed that the author's name at the top looked familiar - w _illwrite4fics_. Wait, that was the author of the story he just finished. And he was pretty sure he'd seen other stories by this author. Quickly looking through the pile he found several more. "Who else is reading a story by willwrite4fics?"

A bunch of hands rose into the air. Baker whistled as he counted both the hands and the pile on the table. "Wow! Twelve stories from one author."

"Now that's speedwriting," Olsen said.

"That's a record, sir," Kinch announced.

"More for us to read and enjoy then." Hogan smiled. For all his worry and complaints this challenge was turning exactly into what he had hoped it would be. A fun chance to read lots of good stories.

"Colonel Hogan," Addison called out, "there's something strange about this story. The paper feels different."

Hogan took the paper and rubbed in between his fingers. "It is thicker than the others."

"You think there's a hidden message?" Baker asked.

LeBeau headed for the pantry. "I'll get the lemon juice."

"I can light a fire. The heat and light could reveal a hidden message. It is a common..."

"Carter," Hogan said. Then joking to the room, he added, "Who let the pyromaniac read the Guy Fawkes story?"

Carter's eyes grew wide. "There's a Guy Fawkes story! Where is it? Do I get to blow something up?"

In an attempt to get the conversion back on topic, Kinch suggested, "Maybe there's hint in the story."

"Nimrod's in it and there's puzzles," Addision explained. "Do you think the paper could be a puzzle as well?"

Hogan nodded. "It might be. Newkirk?"

The Corporal took the page in page in his hand and looked it over carefully. Then he started picking at the edge with his fingernails. "Its two pages stuck together. Though I've never seen one sealed so well."

"Can you open it?"

In answer, Newkirk pealed the back paper off of the story and laid in on the table. Hogan leaned over and read:

 _We the authors accept your challenge and deliver to you twenty-six stories written by twelve writers for your reading pleasure. Also, we are thrilled to announce that each story raised a little over $21 dollars to charity as nine people donated $548 dollars (in various local currencies) to eight different organizations serving people in need. Enjoy!_

"Wow!" gasped Kinch.

"Bravo!" LeBeau added.

"You know, maybe we were a little rough on the writers," Carter said. "I mean did you read the story about Wiley? There are so many who more guys out there who get hurt worse than we do and nobody remembers them. They call us heroes, but there are lots of heroes in this war. Why should people remember us? We complain about the attention, but at least when people write about us people and learn about the danger we face, they gain a little understanding into what the Wileys of this war experienced."

Carter stopped for a quick breath but he wasn't done. "These authors deserve our thanks. These stories bring joy into people's lives and they even make people think. I'm glad they write. Even when I'm injured, because we let them knew that there are things worth fighting and dying for."

There was silence in the barracks after that speech. Knowing that the Sergeant was right and that author's stories and generosity was impressive, Hogan admitted it in the best way he could. "Carter, next time I need to convince Klink to change his mind, I'll send you."

Carter blushed and some of the others patted him on the back.

Raising a coffee mug, Kinch said, "To the authors and the stories they tell."

Hogan mimicked him. "And to all the heroes who inspired them."

 _And,_ the officer thought as he drank his coffee, _at least now I know I have a plan that works if I ever need to divert the author's attentions onto to happier thoughts again._

From now on Mission Author Redirection would be as easy as pie.

* * *

 _Note from Book 'em Again:_

 _Thank you to everyone who participated in this challenge. We had a record number of stories and I believe donations and lots of readers supporting us with their reviews and kind words. This event couldn't have been a great success without you! Special thanks goes to snooky-9093 from coming up with idiom challenge idea and to Sophia Villo for being a wonderful partner in crime - having someone around to bounce ideas off of is invaluable and I'm very grateful. So thanks again and h_ _appy writing all!_


End file.
